


And I will try to breathe, 'til it turns to muscle memory

by SkyScribbles



Series: A thousand fingerprints on the surfaces of who I am [6]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: And is disturbed by this 'sleep' thing his friends do, Bickering Surrogate Siblings, Dialogue Heavy, Essek Week, Gen, Hints of Shadowgast and Beaujester, In which Essek is travelling with the Nein for. Reasons?, Late Night Conversations, Post C2E99, Spoilers up to C2E99, Trust Issues! Trust Issues Everywhere!, Vague Wildemount Fireside Chat spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23394412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyScribbles/pseuds/SkyScribbles
Summary: ‘I don’t trust you to die for us.’Essek wants to look away. But there is something about Beau's gaze, even through the goggles, that grips more ruthlessly than any gravity well he has ever conjured.‘I mean,’ she says, ‘we’re trying to build up some honesty here, so – would you die for us, Essek? Would you die for Jester? For Caleb?’(In which Beau and Essek discuss loyalty, and Beau shares stories of a fallen friend.)
Relationships: Essek Thelyss & Beauregard Lionett, The Mighty Nein & Essek Thelyss
Series: A thousand fingerprints on the surfaces of who I am [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874992
Comments: 46
Kudos: 492





	And I will try to breathe, 'til it turns to muscle memory

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 2 of Essek week: 'Loneliness/Friendship.'

His first journey with them goes smoothly, until it doesn’t.

And he should have had a plan for this, should have known it was going to become a problem as soon as they stopped for the night, but – well. He’s been preoccupied. He has spent the last twenty-four hours studiously ignoring his conviction that one of the Nein would stop, mid-trek, and turn back to him. Say, _no. We made a mistake. Go home._

They didn’t, of course. And now Caleb’s raising a magic dome, and Jester’s crashing onto a bedroll with a moan and declaring herself too tired to take first watch, or second, or third. And Essek – flushed and foolish from the triumph of simply being there, being with them – says, ‘Well, I will be conscious the whole night. I can easily take first watch. Or, indeed, every watch.’

Jester twists around to grin at him, and there’s a pleasant stab in Essek’s stomach. And then. Well. He looks at the others, and it’s the same old pattern: Caduceus smiling; Beauregard standing with folded arms and Veth with narrowed eyes; Fjord and Yasha making a show of busying themselves with the campfire. 

And Caleb. Spellbook open in one hand as he casts, face outlined in blue-white light from his driftglobe. He doesn’t look at Essek. But his fingers, marking out the spell-runes across the ground, go still.

‘You guys don’t sleep, right?’ Jester’s voice is so very good at filling silence. ‘You just meditate for, like, the whole night.’

‘Only for about four hours,’ Essek says. Keeps his voice steady in a way that doesn’t match what he’s feeling, because here it goes again, the trust between them falling away and the tension rising. ‘During which time I remain aware of my surroundings. If anything were to approach, I would know about it.’

‘So you mean _none_ of us have to stay awake? This is the best thing ever, you guys, we should definitely bring Essek along every time we go somewhere –’

Veth hurls her backpack to the ground. ‘All right, I’m just going to say it – are we really okay with _him_ watching us? While we’re _asleep?’_

‘I understand that it might not be your first preference,’ Essek says. Which might be the greatest understatement of his life, after _for what it’s worth, I’m sorry._ ‘But I thought it worth mentioning. I will be conscious all night; it’s not a thing I can help. If you wish to make use of that, the option is there.’

‘I vote,’ Veth says, and she’s glowering, ‘we keep two non _-_ traitor people on watch like normal, and you can go and do your – your weird thing – in the corner of the dome.’

It is not in his best interests, Essek decides, to point out that a dome does not have corners. Or to say what’s on his mind, which is _I would not hurt you. Please, let me prove that I would not hurt you._ Except he already has, of course, so many of their scars must be there because of what he did, and they have too many scars, and he’s stupid, stupid for thinking they would let him watch over them, _selfish_ for thinking he’s one of them –

Caleb closes his book.

It’s a small sound, almost drowned by the _phut_ of the finished dome springing into being, but every head turns to him. And every eye stays on him as he says, ‘Well. We are all very tired; I don’t think we should be looking a gift drow in the mouth. Maybe we have just one person at a time keeping watch with our friend here. For his safety, and… for ours.’

Essek will not wince. He will not. Really, this halfway trust is more than he has a right to expect, because Veth’s suggestion was perfectly reasonable. All the same, it hurts, to know that part of Caleb is ready for Essek to kill him in his sleep.

(It hurts, that Caleb won’t look at him.)

But then Beau says, ‘I’m taking first watch.’ And every hurt and hope about Caleb, and Caleb’s trust, vanishes behind a far simpler thought: _oh, no._

‘How fun,’ Essek says. And Beau glares, and Fjord opens his mouth and closes it again, and Jester glances at Caduceus. Who volunteers for the next watch a little too quickly. It’s a poor omen, that the healer wants to be the next person on the scene.

No one protests, though. So the alarm spell is set, and everyone but Beau throws out bedrolls and blankets and lies down and –

And, slowly, they _stop._

Essek has had non-elven Den members, but he’s never watched this process. And it’s curious, it’s surprising, because his trances are voluntary and instantaneous and this _sleep_ is anything but. Veth rolls from side to side, snaps at Fjord for keeping her awake by ‘breathing too loudly,’ and gets a sock thrown in her face. Jester gets up after a short time, muttering that she isn’t cosy enough, and grabs Beau’s discarded coat to drape over herself. (Beau freezes. Interesting.) Caleb lies there for a full half-hour before his breathing shifts and slows. And even then, it’s not quiet. Beau doesn’t seem concerned by the rumbling noises coming from Caduceus or Yasha, so Essek assumes neither of them is experiencing a fatal breathing difficulty. The sound is mildly irritating, but –

But Essek is so glad for it. Glad they’re close enough for him to see their chests rising and falling. Because they are so still, so childlike all curled up like this, and it’s so _strange_ when they don’t react to a single bird-screech or creak of branches.

They look more than vulnerable. They look dead.

‘You know, you sitting there staring creepily at them really doesn’t help with the whole trust thing. Just throwing that out there.’

Beauregard’s eyes are invisible behind her goggles, but Essek knows she’s glaring at him. ‘Do you expect me to start cutting their throats?’

‘Someone’s got to assume the worst of you. If you want someone to assume the best, you can wait ‘til you’re on watch with Caduceus.’

‘Is it so suspicious for me to be curious? I’ve never watched anyone sleep before.’

‘Okay, rule number one for being round people who sleep? You don’t stare at them. It’s weird.’

‘Then forgive my ignorance of Imperial taboos.’ And then, because they could trade barbs all night, and he’s tired, ‘I didn’t mean to offend. It’s simply… surprising. That you all feel able to let yourselves become unconscious for so many hours at a time.’

She shrugs. ‘I mean, it’s not like we get a say in it. And we’ve got Caleb’s hut thing, and we leave someone to watch our backs. Cause, you know, we fucking trust each other.’

The _we_ so clearly excludes Essek. And he shouldn’t be angry. He shouldn’t. But – ‘Tell me, do you think I would harm them? Now? Whatever you think of my… previous actions, or my motives, do you doubt that I care for you all, Beauregard?’

‘I just think your definition of caring is different to ours. You know, when you care about people, you generally don’t lie to them for three fucking months –’

‘So I should have announced everything to you the day we met, when we were strangers? I’m sure that would have played out well. Likely, most of those here would not be alive.’

Beau’s hands tighten on her staff.

‘In which case,’ Essek adds, ‘I’m glad I kept it from you.’

‘Okay, you’re – you’re really not helping your case, man.’

She’s silent for a few seconds, scuffing the dirt with her boot. Then, ‘Yeah, I think you care about us. I think you like us, and you don’t want anything to happen to us, but – it’s not the same as how we care about each other. ‘Cause I’d lay down my life for these guys– ’ She jerks her head at their huddled companions – ‘and they _have_ laid down theirs for me.I’ve watched Fjord and Nott and Caduceus die in front of me, but we brought them back, because that’s how much we care _._ And if it came down to us or you? I don’t trust you to die for us.’

Essek wants to look away. But there is something about Beau's gaze, even through the goggles, that grips more ruthlessly than any gravity well he has ever conjured.

‘I mean,’ she says, ‘we’re trying to build up some honesty here, so – _would_ you die for us, Essek? Would you die for Jester? For Caleb?’

Essek stares. Swallows. Looks over at Jester, hugging her haversack, smiling in her sleep. At Caleb, lying so still. And he tries to imagine what it would mean to lose them, but it hurts, and he tries to imagine taking a blade for them, but that hurts too. And he can’t speak, because things are so different, and he should want to die for them and he _wants_ to want to, but he doesn’t _know –_

‘Yeah,’ says Beau, once the silence has lasted long enough to become loaded, ‘that’s what I thought.’

Before Essek can speak, she turns around and jabs a finger at the back of her neck. Under the moons, her tattoo glints. ‘See this? This symbol, it was – this friend of us wore it. And when he was still with us, we woke up one night and found out these fucking slavers had come along and taken Jester and Fjord and Yasha. And this friend, Mollymauk, he came with me and Nott and Caleb to get them back. We’d known each other a month. A _month.’_

She stops. Breathes in. ‘And, uh. They killed him. They killed Molly, and he stayed dead, because Jester wasn’t there and we hadn’t met Caduceus yet. We barely knew each other and Molly fucking _died_ trying to get them back.’

There’s a catch in her voice, like the words are choking her. Essek looks away. Thinks of his father, and that month where the Nein vanished without trace. Thinks of the hot tub, Jester’s fond, sad eyes. _Somewhere out there, there is a town that thinks Molly is the shit._

He didn’t ask further, then. Now he says, ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

Beau’s breath shudders as she draws it in. ‘You know what makes me so mad about this? About you not even knowing if you could put our lives first? If Molly were here, he’d die for you too. He wouldn’t care that you haven’t earned it. He thought no one had to earn things. He thought you just looked out for people and put your ass on the line for them because that was what you _did._ I mean, don’t get me wrong, he could be an asshole, but –’ She breathes out again, heavily, and draws her knees against her chest. ‘I’m trying to give you a chance here, because – I know Molly would have. ‘Cause he wanted to leave every place better than he found it. Think he’d want to leave you better, too.’

And for a heartbeat, Essek’s slumped on a crate belowdecks on the Nein’s ship, and his face is in Caleb’s hands, Caleb’s lips are on his forehead, and Caleb’s voice is saying –

‘Leave it better than it was before,’ Essek murmurs, and it is so strange to consider, that he owes that moment to a stranger named Mollymauk who is long since dead.

‘Do you actually want to be better, though? Because right now, it seems like you don’t regret anything, except almost losing us.’

And Essek can feel his thoughts spiralling out into that scream of _I don’t know_ again, so he breathes in, pulls them back, and directs them towards this person named Molly. Of a person who, if Beau is telling the truth, burned warm and bright and then burned out, to save people who had not earned a death from him.

(Essek does not want to die. He wants to live, so very badly.)

And he remembers the Umavi recounting the great figures who died shortly before his birth, wondering which one of them Essek would turn out to be. He remembers turning fifteen, sixteen; the expectations vanishing. He fought and clawed for a century to redeem himself for being a new soul, and Mollymauk must have been delusional, to think that _no one has to earn things._ The world does not work that way.

And yet. And yet.

Essek did not earn Jester, taking his hand, keeping it warm and steady while he spoke. He did not earn Caleb, words fierce against his ears and lips soft against his forehead.

He looks at them. At his friends, who _burn,_ who blaze colour through their reckless little lives. So defiant in their vibrancy. They are so intimate with death and yet there’s so much _life_ in them, and Essek’s so jealous that he aches, and he has never been loved in his life in the way that he loves these people, here, right now.

And before he knows he’s going to do it, he says, ‘I do want to be better, Beauregard.’

Beau’s eyebrows lift. ‘Yeah?’

‘I can’t promise that I won’t be a coward.’ Because oh, Light, he wants to live. ‘I _can_ promise that I hope not to be. I want, in that moment, to have your friend Mollymauk’s courage. Perhaps I’ll find it.’

Silence, except for Caduceus’ and Yasha’s snorting. Then Beau gives him one sharp nod. ‘That’s a fucking start.’

Essek almost smiles.

And the hour passes, and Beau pulls out a book, and Essek starts forming a mental list of what spells he should ready for tomorrow, and it’s far more comfortable between them than he expected. And Beau doesn’t complain when he sweeps his eyes over the Nein again, which is a relief, because this sleep business is fascinating. ‘So – to fall asleep, you have to pretend to be asleep first?’

She tilts her head, frowning. ‘Huh. Guess we do. Never thought of it like that. Kinda hard sometimes, ‘cause you can get shaken out of it by, you know, loud noises. People touching you. Being too cold, being too hot, thinking too much…’

Essek’s lips twitch. _Thinking too much –_ no wonder it took Caleb so long. ‘All that? That seems like a rather serious design flaw.’

Beau huffs. ‘Yeah. That’s fair.’

And because the air between them is a little less thick with tension, he asks, ‘Does it not frighten you?’

‘Sleeping?’

‘I mean, do you never wonder, when you’re letting all your senses stop like that, that you might not regain them?’

Beau looks at him for a long moment. ‘Do we worry that we’re not gonna wake up? I mean, I don’t really think about it. It’s just. You know. What we do.’ Her fingers drum on her staff. ‘Wonder if that’s why you’re so scared.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You’re scared. Of, you know, losing control and shit. You’re scared of dying, you’re scared of telling the truth. You’re scared of putting yourself in danger, and you’re scared of losing us.’ She ticks the list off on her fingers. ‘Maybe if you had to… give up control of everything, every night, and take it on trust that you’d wake up… maybe you’d have some practice at just letting go and seeing what happens.’

Essek looks at her, and feels the way he did when she grinned at him across their breakfast plates and said _you don’t need to float around us._ He’s not sure what the feeling is. Being seen, maybe. And a little bit accepted.

(There’s a moment, just one, where he almost tells her the truth about his consecution. But that’s a story to tell them all, some day.)

The second hour ends, and Beau wakes Caduceus and flops down beside Jester with a grunt. Essek breathes in and says, ‘Beauregard. I hope you get to sleep without disturbance by noises, the cold, the heat, or your own thoughts.’

She opens one eye. ‘Most people just say goodnight, but, whatever. Have a good – trance. Thing.’

And he does. With Caduceus’s easy presence next to him, and his friends’ breathing loud behind him, Essek does.

When he emerges, the horizon is tinged with red and gold. Caleb is settling down cross-legged a little way away, starting his watch, and he taps the ground next to him when he sees Essek look up. Essek picks his way around the side of the dome, hovering briefly to avoid Caduceus's legs, and sits at Caleb’s side.

‘Is this your first sunrise?’ Caleb asks, after a moment, and Essek nods.

‘It is. You said once that you hoped I'd get to see one.’ This wasn't what Caleb meant, of course, and that was such a heavy, painful moment. But the memory no longer aches. ‘I'm glad I will; I’ve heard they're something to behold.’

‘ _Ja,_ well. Most new experiences are.’

Caleb is smiling at him. It's been so long since Essek has seen that. And it feels like coming home, and the world is a little brighter and better than it was yesterday and it’s nothing to do with the sunrise.

Essek closes his eyes. Pictures a long-dead stranger called Mollymauk and thinks, _thank you._

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Son' by Sleeping At Last, because if that's not 'Essek's character development, the summary' I don't know what is.


End file.
